


wait for me

by writing_way_too_much



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Rated teen for language, apparently sungjin and brian don't exist whoops, late night snapchatting fueled by mountain dew, that definitely needs to be a tag ao3 what are you doing, the dopil is past fyi, this might not even make any sense sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 09:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13972284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_way_too_much/pseuds/writing_way_too_much
Summary: it’s well past one a.m. and dowoon can’t tell if his hands are jittery from the three cans of mountain dew or from adrenaline.





	wait for me

**Author's Note:**

> this might not even make any sense i am so sorry...i had an idea and ran with it. apologies for this mess. i just really really needed to finish and post something. i'm supposed to be writing and posting multiple jaepil oneshots plus a super long college au but this came out of nowhere
> 
> disclaimer: this is completely fictitious, i own nothing but the plot
> 
> i listened to seventeen's entire discography, wanna one's "i.p.u.", nct u's "boss", and day6's "how can i say" on repeat while writing this

it’s late.

it’s late, and the soft glow of the string of white christmas lights strung over wonpil’s headboard gives him an ethereal look. dowoon could maybe be in love with him if he wanted to be.

the stars are particularly bright this far out in the countryside. wonpil’s grandparents have a lovely little house, surrounded by forest and field and generally a lot of green. dowoon and wonpil have spent the entire day outside, shivering in their sweatshirts, getting mud on the knees of their jeans, laughter dissipating in the cool not-quite-spring air. 

wonpil’s grandfather built a fire outside when it got dark and they toasted marshmallows over it. wonpil told dowoon his secrets and dowoon told wonpil his, both staring into the fire, unable to look at each other until all the words were out in the air.

now, they’re up in wonpil’s bedroom, a tiny space with weird angles tucked away at the top of the house. they were watching disney movies on wonpil’s laptop earlier, but that’s been long paused.

it’s well past one a.m. and dowoon can’t tell if his hands are jittery from the three cans of mountain dew or from adrenaline.

“just text him,” wonpil urges. “the semester’s already half over anyway. wait too long and he’ll be gone.”

dowoon glares at wonpil. “what if i’m actually in love with you?”

wonpil laughs a little at that, expression softening. “we’ve kissed, dowoonie,” he reminds him. “it didn’t work out.”

dowoon blushes, remembering that night. they’d been sitting here, on this very bed, and dowoon had fumbled out some stupid semi-confession. wonpil had smiled and kissed him. it had been nice, but not earth-shattering. more of a way for wonpil to prove a point than anything truly romantic.

_ “i don’t think it’s me who you like, dowoonie.” _

_ “but it has to be you, hyung.” _

_ “why?” _

“he’s older than me, though, and he’s smart and funny and could have anyone he wants. why would he want me?”

wonpil bites his bottom lip. “do we really have to go through this again?”

almost as if it’s mocking him, dowoon’s phone flashes  _ ten percent battery remaining _ up at him. “look, hyung, my phone’s dying,” he tries to argue.

wonpil’s having none of it. “oh look, a charger.”

“why are you making me do this?”

dowoon’s had a hopeless crush on park jaehyung for as long as he’s known him (three quarters of a school year, both an infinity and a blink of an eye) and is steadfastly determined to do nothing about it, seeing as jae’s three years older than him and, in dowoon’s opinion, way too good for him.

unfortunately, when you have kim wonpil as your best friend, things tend to happen whether you want them to or not.

“just snapchat him a selfie or something.”

“i don’t do selfies, hyung.”

“then an aesthetic photo of the christmas lights. something, dowoonie, c’mon, we don’t have all night.”

dowoon sighs.

he opens snapchat, takes a sort of blurry and angled photo of the christmas lights, then types  _ you up? _ and hits send before he can think too much of it.

“see, that wasn’t so bad--”

“i’m going to scream,” dowoon warns.

“at least put your face in this pillow so you don’t wake up my grandparents,” wonpil says, tossing a pillow over at dowoon. “hey, look, he snapped you back!”

“fuck,” dowoon whispers into the pillow.

the reply is a picture of the edge of a tv screen displaying some paused video game captioned  _ yeah _ .

“why do you like him again?” wonpil asks. dowoon frowns at him.

_ what’re you doing _

is what he finally types and sends back with another blurry picture of the christmas lights.

“you’re so terrible at flirting, dowoonie,” wonpil says.

“you were the one that forced me to do this, hyung,” dowoon reminds him.

the distinctive sound of a snapchat notification has wonpil rubbing his hands together in glee and dowoon nearly throwing his phone across the room.

_ gaming wbu _

“there’s no way he likes me, if these replies are anything to go by,” dowoon says, letting a little bit of despair creep into his tone.

“remember when he let you lean against him at the last couple basketball games? and sat behind you on the bus ride and talked to you the whole time? he definitely likes you. where did all of your confidence go?”

dowoon sighs.

_ watching disney movies _

“that’s boring,” wonpil says.

dowoon elbows him off the bed. “if i wanted your opinion, hyung, i’d’ve asked.”

_ fun _

“how do i do this?” dowoon asks helplessly, looking down at wonpil. he must be doing a poor job of keeping the panic out of his eyes because wonpil’s demeanor shifts into something more serious.

“just go with your gut, dowoonie.”

_ tell me a secret _

_ you’re too young for me but you’re pretty cute _

“oh,” dowoon manages.

“what?” wonpil asks. dowoon tilts the phone screen at him, takes a deep breath, digs the nail of his middle finger into his palm. “oh no...i’m sorry, dowoonie.”

“not your fault,” but okay, it kind of is.

if dowoon cries that night, wonpil doesn’t make a big deal out of it.   
  
  
  


 

so maybe he never wants to talk to jae again.

dowoon doesn’t ever respond to that snapchat, and maybe that’s a little harsh, to leave jae on read for literal years, but he still gets a physical pain in his chest whenever he thinks about that late-night conversation, so he elects not to think too much about it.

he goes through the rest of high school with wonpil at his side. so what if they even go to prom together? they’re best friends, and dowoon hasn’t been able to give his heart to anyone else after what wonpil refers to as the jae disaster.

at graduation, through all of the weepy parents and excited graduates, dowoon thinks he sees a lanky man on the fringes of the crowd, wearing ripped black jeans and a flannel, with round gold-framed glasses on his nose.

“what’s wrong, dowoonie? you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” wonpil says.

“it’s nothing, hyung,” dowoon says, and he turns away from the possibility.

he wonders if he’s still too young for jae.

college begins in a whirlwind, with a roommate who tries to make advances on him. that sleazeball is thankfully replaced by none other than wonpil, who holds dowoon at night when he shakes.

it’s been about four years, maybe off by a couple days or so, when fate decides to pull the strings again.

spring break is right around the corner. dowoon just has to make it through his last few midterms and then he can breathe again. he and wonpil are planning to go out to wonpil’s grandparents’ house again during the vacation. they made it a tradition in high school.

he’s in a cafe on monday afternoon, staring desperately at study guides and flashcards and past essays, chanting information quietly to himself, trying to sear vocabulary into his brain. the barista behind the counter keeps sending him worried glances.

“hey,” says a voice.

a ballad is playing over the cafe’s speakers, some crooning female voice that dowoon could probably identify if he tried hard enough. his cup of coffee has been sitting stagnant for an hour or so and the muffin that he only made it partway through is dried out. he doesn’t want to even think about anything other than midterms, but--

but a distraction in the form of one park jaehyung is hesitantly pulling out the chair next to him and sitting.

“jae? park jaehyung?” dowoon asks, voice a little strangled.

“yoon dowoon?” jae asks.

“yeah.”

jae hasn’t changed much. he’s still obnoxiously tall, still dresses like a pretentious hipster in an endearing sort of way, still has the voice of an angel. dowoon self-consciously runs over his appearance in his mind. his hair is a mess for sure, and his jeans are wrinkled, and his breath probably smells like cheap coffee and instant ramen.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” jae says.

dowoon nods tightly, keeping his eyes fixed on his computer screen.

they sit in an unbearably awkward silence for a very, very long moment.

“i’m sorry,” jae says suddenly, lightly touching dowoon’s shoulder. “i never meant to hurt you.”

dowoon closes his eyes.

“you’re still--shit--you’re still just as attractive and i’m sure funny and i’m sure silly as you were when i first met you but i was seventeen and you were fourteen and that’s kind of a bad age gap but now you’re eighteen and i’m twenty-one and that’s not as bad, i don’t think--”

“stop,” dowoon whispers.

jae stops.

“can you buy me dinner?”

  
  
  
  
  


dowoon never wants this night to end.

they’ve eaten dinner and seen three movies back-to-back and wandered the streets. dowoon feels  _ alive _ and jae’s hand is soft and warm in his.

they still haven’t talked about it.

“i think we’re avoiding the elephant in the room here,” dowoon finally says.

“have i told you yet to call me hyung?” jae asks, distracted. “cause if not, now i’m telling you.”

“hyung, i think we’re avoiding the elephant in the room here,” dowoon tries again.

jae slumps down, leaning against the wall, tightening his hold on dowoon’s hand. “you’re right.”

“i liked you,” dowoon starts, and he wants nothing more than to stare at the ground and avoid jae’s eyes at all costs, but he forces himself to keep his gaze lifted. “i still like you.”

jae’s mouth widens in a slightly lopsided “o.” dowoon kind of really wants to kiss him.

“i’m sorry that i hurt you.” jae unconsciously licks his lips. “i didn’t know how else to tell you. i was attracted to you, yeah, but you were honestly too young for me and i didn’t want to lead you on.”

“that’s fair.”

“but now i think i’ve waited long enough, wouldn’t you say?”   
  
  
  
  


 

_ i kissed jae _

_ finally _ , wonpil texts back.

dowoon lets out an embarrassingly giddy laugh.

jae smiles down at him and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> the ending sucks i know
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated and they make me smile :)
> 
> hmu on tumblr @bestfluteninja


End file.
